Wolverine. Same time, same place.
Starting the engine, Logan side-eyed his unexpected passenger.
The sleek kid, who you'd be hard-pressed to guess was a day over twenty-five, was lounging comfortably in the passenger seat, watching the street go by as if nothing had happened.
Where he had managed to stash the stolen plate of sandwiches was a complete mystery, just like everything else about him.
The stranger's long dark hair was slicked back perfectly and hadn't lost that perfection even when he was bouncing around a sweat-stinking ring, putting any monkey to shame.
His clothes were more suited for a gala or a bohemian party in New York than for the Canadian backwoods.
But the owner of the emerald cufflinks, the black tie, and the shirt so snowy white it made Logan's teeth ache just imagining the starch, clearly didn't give a damn.
Even the scarf draped around his neck with its green pattern looked less like warm clothing and more like a luxurious accessory designed to highlight the owner's exquisite style.
But the most baffling thing was that Logan couldn't catch his scent at all. It was as if the passenger seat was empty, no human smell, not even the smell of his clothes.
The kid could fight, too. In a way Logan couldn't recall ever seeing before.
And it wasn't just skill, Logan himself had never chased the title of martial arts master, seeing neither point nor interest in it, but the kid was definitely physically stronger than him.
Maybe not "tear down walls with bare hands" strong, but Logan definitely wouldn't want to arm wrestle him.
And considering Wolverine was two or three times stronger than an average man of his build, and this fancy-pants looked much leaner… it didn't add up.
The final riddle was his parlor tricks with illusions, or whatever the hell that was. Logan didn't understand magic crap, so he decided not to clog his head with it.
They set off in silence and drove in silence.
Accustomed to loneliness, the man had no desire to start a conversation, and his passenger apparently felt the same.
Someone else in Logan's shoes might have tried to satisfy their curiosity, taking advantage of the opportunity, but the lone drifter didn't like poking his nose into other people's business.
Other people's business always meant problems, and he had enough of those.
Right now, the accidental hitchhiker's secrets didn't concern him and weren't getting in his way, and that suited Logan fine.
It suited him even more that the guy wasn't pestering him with questions or complaining about the tobacco smell.
As for anything else, Logan was prepared to think about it closer to lunch… or dinner.
However, after twenty minutes on the road, the man noticed a strange sound coming from the trailer. The wheels didn't sound right.
While they were driving through town, he hadn't paid attention to it, but out on the quiet highway, he couldn't help but listen.
Eventually, he pinpointed exactly what was scratching at his enhanced hearing.
The forest road was empty this early in the morning; the sun hadn't really risen yet, and it was cloudy today.
Logan calmly stopped the car right in the lane and killed the engine, shoving the keys into his pocket.
"Gotta check something," he deemed it necessary to explain to the passenger, though judging by the guy's look, he didn't particularly care about the reason for the sudden stop.
Climbing out and noting the lack of a sound of the other door opening, Wolverine sighed.
Checking his pocket for the keys one more time, just in case, he headed for the trailer.
A fresh breeze slightly diluted the sweet bitterness of the cigar in his mouth; wet snow crunched under his boots, and pristine silence surrounded them.
He inspected the wheels and the hitch critically.
Everything looked fine. But the moment he puzzledly shifted his cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, his sensitive hearing caught a rustle coming from under the canvas covering the trailer.
taking two slow steps closer, Logan began to distinguish other interesting sounds, sounds his motorcycle definitely couldn't be making.
The bike had been the trailer's sole inhabitant for the last couple of years. And motorcycles don't breathe.
Nor does the sound of an engine resemble a human heartbeat.
When he saw the contents of the open trailer bed, the mutant simply took the cigar out of his mouth, impressed.
The disturbance in the tarp covering his steel horse was immediately obvious.
Subconsciously, he had expected something like this. If shit happens, its size can only be "huge" or "truly massive."
He might have memory problems, but his animal instincts were in perfect working order, and they promised that a day which started this badly was obligated to end just as badly.
Silently poking two fingers at the new bulge in the tarp near the front wall, the man wasn't surprised to hear a frightened "Oh!" in a distinctly female voice. He yanked the cover off the illegal passenger.
It was some girl in a light green hooded coat, sprawled next to his motorcycle, using her duffel bag as a pillow.
She didn't look up immediately, but when she did, Wolverine recognized the face of the seventeen-or-nineteen-year-old kid who had been sneaking glances at him and his other passenger all morning.
"What are you doing here?" Logan asked, hastily shoving the cigar back into his mouth to calm his nerves with a drag.
He wasn't asking for the name of her sleeping position, but rather what the hell she was thinking climbing into a strange man's vehicle heading into the Canadian wilderness.
"I'm sorry, I just needed a ride. I need help," the girl mumbled, squinting against the sunlight as if she'd actually managed to fall asleep on the cold metal of the open trailer bed.
"Get out," he commanded shortly. Picking up her bag, he decisively tossed it out of the trailer.
"Where am I supposed to go?" the stranger mumbled, starting to get up.
"I don't know," Logan cut her off uncompromisingly.
"You don't know, or you don't care?" the cheeky brat asked with an accusatory tone, jumping down to the ground.
"You decide!" the man shot back harshly.
Making sure there were no other new items in his trailer, Wolverine swept a glance over the girl, who was gasping for air in confusion, and turned sharply to head back.
"And what kind of help were you talking about?"